


runnin' outta time (to make you love me)

by zachas



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Near Future, Playoffs, Polyamory Negotiations, more like idiots to lovers, the word "bud" as a term of endearment, travis konecny is a dumbass you heard it here first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-23 18:33:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19707097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zachas/pseuds/zachas
Summary: “Sincewhenare you fuckingNico Hischier?”Travis screeches.





	runnin' outta time (to make you love me)

**Author's Note:**

> me, jokingly: you know, tk/nolan and nico/nolan are both such good ships... and nolan patrick _does_ have two hands
> 
> me, a week later: fuck.
> 
> so this is an example of how dangerous it is to joke around about random ships because sometimes they might actually happen. rip. 
> 
> thanks to hannah for reading this over and letting me yell at her about it all the time! and thanks to amy for helping me think of tags to tag this with, you're a real one.
> 
> this fic takes place in the nebulous near future where both the devils and the flyers make the playoffs because i didn't really want to take the time to handwave timelines and all that. 
> 
> i am very much... not a flyers fan, so of course i made this tk pov. i love one (1) flyer. (okay maybe two, because nolan.)
> 
> title is from running out of time by tyler the creator.

It’s late, and Travis is sitting at Nolan’s dining table, digging into some tragically healthy takeout with him because they are, unfortunately, professional athletes in the middle of the playoffs, when Nolan clears his throat awkwardly.

“So like,” Nolan says, then pauses awkwardly because he’s awkward. “I just wanted to let you know that, uh, Nico Hischier’s gonna be staying with me for a bit.”

Travis blinks from his mouthful of sandwich. The Devils went down in six against Washington yesterday, so that part makes sense, logically, but — “I didn’t know you guys were friends,” Travis says.

“Um, yeah,” Nolan says.

“Wait, but you don’t have a guest bedroom,” Travis says. It’s a fact that Travis knows very intimately, given the sheer number of times he’d slept over on Nolan’s itchy couch because he’d been too lazy to get up and climb up the stairs back to his own place. 

Nolan coughs. “Yeah, I know. He’ll be sleeping in my room.”

Travis stares at him. Nolan stares down at the table. His ears are pink, and getting pinker by the second.

“Since _when_ are you fucking _Nico Hischier?”_ Travis screeches.

“Motherfucking ow!” Nolan says, clapping his hands over his ears. “Would you stop screaming?”

“That’s not an answer!” Travis says, screaming only a little bit.

“I don’t — like, since the draft?” Nolan says, and that’s. Wow.

It’s not that Travis didn’t know that Nolan’s been in a relatively serious long-distance relationship for a long time — he’d have to pretty much be blind for that, because Nolan is quite literally the opposite of subtle and spends all the time he isn’t using to play hockey or hang out with Travis to stare dreamily at his phone and text someone who he’s got named _N,_ followed by a million different heart emojis, in his contacts — but it’s a whole other thing to know that the person he’s dating is Nico fucking Hischier. Of the New Jersey Devils. Who, you know, happen to be one of their divisional rivals.

 _“Dude,”_ Travis says, aghast. “So you’ve been, what, _fraternizing_ with the enemy —”

“Fraternizing?” Nolan cuts in incredulously. “That’s a big fucking word, bud, didn’t know it was in your vocabulary.”

“Shut the _fuck_ up, Patty, you are so fucking annoying,” Travis says, giving him a hard whack on the arm. 

“Ow!” Nolan says, all mock-offended. “Dude, that fucking _hurt!”_

“Oh, you big _baby_ —”

Nolan lunges for him then, and after a brief wrestling match on the floor, Travis admits defeat. 

“You’re fucking heavy, get off,” Travis grumbles, giving Nolan a hard shove. Nolan obligingly rolls off of him.

“I just — can you be chill? When he comes?” Nolan says after a minute. 

“I’m always chill,” Travis says. “Why are you so worried, anyway?”

“I want you to get along,” Nolan says. “You’re like my two favorite people in the world, so.”

“That’s a fucking lie, your mom is your favorite person in the world,” Travis says. 

“My two favorite people in the world other than my mom,” Nolan amends. 

“It’s not like I haven’t met the guy before,” Travis says.

Nolan gives him a look. “On the ice doesn’t count.”

Travis puts his hands up. “Okay, okay, fair enough. I can be chill. I promise.”

Nolan smiles, one of those big wide smiles with a lot of teeth that he saves for special occasions. “Thanks, Trav.”

Travis swallows and looks away. “Yeah, no problem, bud.”

\---

Travis will admit, it’s a special kind of awful timing to be trying to figure out your feelings towards one of your closest friends while his boyfriend is staying over. But if Travis is honest with himself, he’s been trying to figure out his feelings since the beginning of the season, almost, so it’s not like it’s anything new at this point.

All the same, when Nico arrives, Travis tries to stay out of the way. He keeps to his own apartment a little more instead of constantly popping in at Nolan’s, which he hasn’t done since probably his first week of knowing Nolan, and it’s kinda weird, honestly, but Travis can adapt. It’ll be good for him if he learns how to be a little less codependent, anyway. Nolan asked him to be chill, after all. Travis can be chill. 

It’s been maybe a day and a half of Chill and Independent Travis when Nolan barges into Travis’ apartment.

“Jesus, ever heard of knocking, Pats?” Travis asks. 

Nolan frowns at him. “Like you can fucking talk, buddy, I can count on one hand how many times you’ve knocked on my door before coming in, and they all happened before I gave you my spare key. Why the fuck are you being so weird?”

“I’m not being weird!” Travis protests. 

“You’re avoiding me,” Nolan says flatly. “For no reason.”

“I don’t know, I just thought you’d want some alone time with your boo,” Travis mumbles. 

“Trav,” Nolan says exasperatedly, but not unkindly. “Come upstairs and eat disgustingly healthy takeout with me.”

“And Nico,” Travis says. 

“And Nico,” Nolan says. 

“Sure I won’t be —”

“Totally sure,” Nolan cuts him off. “Hundy percent. A thousand, even.”

Travis snorts. “Alright, alright, I’m coming.”

The two of them amble up the flight of stairs, but for once, Travis hangs back a little, lets Nolan run ahead and fling open the door to his apartment.

“You’re back,” Nico Hischier smiles.

He’s sitting down at the dining table, which, for once, isn’t drowning underneath an enormous pile of unopened mail, and is in the middle of transferring a salad from one of the takeout boxes onto an actual, real, plate, like he’s an adult or something. Travis guesses that he kind of is, compared to them. 

“Sure am,” Nolan says. He crosses over to Hischier’s side of the table and presses a light kiss to his hair. Hischier laughs.

“Oh, by the way, I sorted out your mail,” Hischier says. “Threw out junk, left the rest in the kitchen. Hope that’s okay?”

“‘Course,” Nolan says. “Don’t think I’d ever do it myself, so. Thanks, babe.”

Hischier grins.

“Hey,” Travis says, without thinking.

Hischier turns his head from Nolan. “Hey,” he says brightly. “You’re Travis, right?”

“Yup, that’s me,” Travis says. “You can call me TK though, everyone does.”

Hischier gets up from the table and holds a hand out for a shake, like the polite bastard he is.

“I’m Nico,” he says warmly. 

“Yeah, I know,” Travis says. He takes Nico’s hand and shakes it quickly.

“Well,” Nico says. “It’s nice to finally meet you, TK. Which one of these is your order?”

\---

The way Nolan acts around Nico is… different, to say the least. Honestly, it’s a wonder that no one’s figured the two of them out, because it barely takes Travis one glance at the way Nolan looks at Nico, all open and soft, to know that he’s undeniably in love with him.

In a spur of curiosity, Travis searches up some of the pre-draft videos from Nolan’s draft year, and even back then, it’s just so obvious. Travis doesn’t know how anyone could have missed it.

He watches a certain Hockey Night in Canada segment, and after a few seconds of deliberation, picks up his phone and FaceTimes Nolan.

“Yeah?” Nolan says, half distracted. Travis hears the splash of the kitchen faucet and catches a glimpse of a sink full of dirty plates.

“Bud,” Travis says. ”Are you seriously _doing the dishes?”_

“Shut up,” Nolan says. “Nico said he was gonna do them if I wasn’t, and _obviously_ I wasn’t gonna let him —”

“Aww, you’re such a gentleman,” Travis coos.

“Asshole. Why the fuck are you calling again?” Nolan asks.

“Oh yeah,” Travis says, then pitches his voice up in a squeaky rendition of Nolan’s voice. “I’d go Switzerland for sure,” he says. “Nico has shown me a lot of pictures of it down there and it looks like a great place to play —”

It takes Nolan a second to recognize the words, but when he does, he flushes. 

“You’re the fucking _worst,”_ Nolan scowls, then hangs up, but not before Travis hears a snatch of Nico’s laughter in the background.

\---

The next day, after practice, Nolan handily defeats Travis at COD, but instead of whooping in victory and rubbing it in Travis’ face like he normally would, he just laughs and hands the controller to Nico.

Travis gets some redemption, because he beats Nico pretty easily, in both COD and NHL. Nico just smiles, all good-natured and nice about it, then pulls out the newest FIFA from thin air and takes Travis to town.

“You Euros and your fucking soccer,” Travis grumbles after losing his third match in a row. “It’s so weird. I don’t get it.”

“If that makes you feel better at night,” Nico says sweetly.

“Patty, your boyfriend’s a fucking menace,” Travis complains. 

“I know,” Nolan says, smiling a goey little smile that he apparently saves just for Nico. It’s disgustingly cute. Travis hates how cute it is.

“I hate the both of you,” Travis groans. 

\---

The Flyers have had a bit of a reprieve, what with winning their series in five while the other series got pushed to seven, but when the Penguins come up victorious after the seventh game, Travis knows that things are about to get a lot tougher.

On the day of their first game against the Pens, Travis pulls on his cleanest game day suit and heads upstairs.

“You ready to go yet, Pats?” Travis asks as he bangs open the door.

“Yeah, just gotta get my tie, give me a sec,” Nolan replies. “Where did I — oh, there it is.” He plucks the tie up from where it had been hanging off kitchen countertop.

Travis rolls his eyes and holds out his hand like he always does, because Nolan’s somehow made it through his entire life without knowing how to tie a tie and makes Travis do it for him every time.

But before Nolan can throw the tie to Travis, Nico appears from the kitchen and takes it from Nolan’s hands, tutting softly. 

“Still haven’t learned how to tie a tie?” Nico asks, sounding faintly amused as he loops the tie around Nolan’s collar.

“I know how,” Nolan protests, which is fucking news to Travis. “I just don’t wanna.”

“Mmm, of course, Nico says. He makes quick work of the tie, giving the finished knot a quick pull to make sure it’s tight enough. “There,” he says.

“Thanks, Nico,” Nolan beams.

Nico grins, then tugs Nolan gently forward by the tie and presses a light kiss to his mouth. It only lasts a couple of seconds, but Nolan still manages to get a hand into Nico’s hair, ruffling it up to hell.

“Good luck,” Nico says softly, when they pull apart. 

“Thanks,” Nolan says, just as quiet.

Travis swallows, then looks away, unable to shake the feeling that he’s encroaching on a private moment. 

Nolan clears his throat and turns to Travis. “Alright,” he says, a little too loudly. “You ready to go kick some Penguin ass, TK?”

“Always, bud,” Travis says, and tries to muster up a smile.

\---

Maybe it’s a good thing that Nolan’s dating Nico. Fuck knows that Travis is awful at all the soft, romantic shit that Nico nails every time. He’d never pegged Nolan as a romantic type, but he guesses he was wrong.

\---

Each game against the Pens is a slog, leaves Travis coming home exhausted and drained, and Nolan doesn’t seem to be faring any better. 

_“Fuck_ the Pens,” Travis says with as much feeling as he can muster before he collapses onto Nolan’s uncomfortable couch. 

“A-fucking-men,” Nolan agrees, face-planting into the cushion right next to him.

Nico settles down on the couch next to Nolan and makes a sympathetic face. “Tough game,” he says gently.

“Yeah,” Nolan sighs. “But we’ll bring it back.”

\---

They push it to seven, at least. 

The locker room is dead silent when they file in, and Travis doesn’t stay long. He shucks off his pads, takes a quick shower, gets dressed, and waits for Nolan. 

The drive home is quiet. Nolan leans his head against the car window and closes his eyes. Travis sneaks glances at him at every red light. Even with his eyes closed, Travis can see the utter exhaustion poured over his features, highlighted by the dim orange of the passing street lights. Travis _feels_ that same exhaustion, deep in his bones.

God, this fucking sucks.

When they get back to the apartment building, Travis follows Nolan blindly up the stairs, walks past his own floor without thinking. Nolan doesn’t even fully fit his key into the lock before his door opens, revealing Nico standing in the doorway, wearing Nolan’s sweats.

“Hey Nico,” Nolan says weakly.

“Hey Nolan,” Nico says softly.

Nolan lets out a deep breath, and all of a sudden, it’s as if all the air’s gone right out of him. He takes a step over the threshold and sinks into Nico’s arms, and Nico walks them backwards until they’re both sitting on Nolan’s incredibly uncomfortably couch. Though honestly, it looks more like they’re cuddling on Nolan’s incredibly uncomfortable couch. It’s definitely cuddling, actually. 

“Um,” Travis says, then takes a step backwards. “I’m just gonna —”

Nolan makes a protesting noise in the back of his throat. “Trav,” he says, and reaches out to him with a free arm.

Travis hesitates for a second, but he walks in, taking care to shut the door behind him. 

“C’mere,” Nolan says, making grabby-hands at him.

“You’re such a baby,” Travis says, but he comes anyway. The moment he sits down on the couch, Nolan wriggles a bit, shifts a little away from Nico so that he can wrap his arms around Travis and pull him closer.

“The fuck,” Travis mumbles into Nolan’s shirt. 

“Cuddles. Obviously,” Nolan says. 

“And who the fuck died and said you could be the big spoon?” Travis huffs. But he lets himself push his face into Nolan’s chest and close his eyes. Nolan smells like sweat and locker room soap, which isn’t a big surprise. The scratchy fabric of the couch rubs uncomfortably against Travis’ arm, which also isn’t a big surprise.

“Technically Nico’s the biggest spoon here,” Nolan points out, which is true. 

“I’m _what?”_ Nico asks from over Nolan’s shoulder. Travis doesn’t think he’s ever heard someone sound so genuinely confused in his life. Poor guy.

“It means —” Nolan starts. 

“Don’t worry about it, bud,” Travis says.

“Okay,” Nico says, looking faintly bemused.

They lapse back into silence. Travis counts along to the rhythm of Nolan’s heartbeats. 

“You guys played well,” Nico says eventually, so quiet that Travis barely catches it. 

Nolan’s arms tighten around Travis. “Not well enough,” he says, and his voice catches on the last word.

Oh, fuck. Nolan can’t cry, because if Nolan cries, then Travis is gonna cry, and Travis hates it when he cries, because you better believe that he ugly cries like a little bitch.

(And also, because Travis kind of loves Nolan a lot, and he thinks it might break him to see Nolan cry for real right now.)

Travis desperately wracks his brain for something to say, anything that could stave off the inevitable Nolan-Patrick-tears.

“Nolan —” Nico starts.

“You need to buy a new fucking couch, Pats,” Travis blurts out. 

Nolan stares at Travis for an agonizingly long minute. Then he bursts out laughing. Like full on cackling, almost. Travis can feel his chest shaking with it.

“What the — What the fuck, Trav?” Nolan wheezes. 

“I’m _serious,_ buddy, your couch fucking sucks,” Travis insists. 

“I like this couch!” Nolan protests. “The fuck did it ever do to you?”

“Have you ever slept on it? It’s a fucking nightmare, bud! The cushions aren’t even _soft_ —”

“They’re soft!”

“What the everloving fuck is the point of a couch that isn’t even comfortable, Pats? Please tell me.”

“It’s _really_ not that bad,” Nolan says.

“Okay, fine,” Travis says. “Nico, you’re the tiebreaker.”

“Me?” Nico says, startled.

“Yeah, you. What do you think?” Travis says. “Does Patty need a new couch because this one is terrible?”

Nico blinks. “It’s… it’s not terrible,” he says eventually. 

“See!” Nolan says. 

“It is kind of scratchy, though,” Nico admits. “I wouldn’t want to sleep on it.”

“Aha!” Travis crows. “I told you!”

Nolan’s got the most legitimately betrayed look Travis has ever seen on his face. “Nico!” he splutters. “I — How could you —”

Nico starts giggling then, this quiet little thing that he smothers behind his free hand, and of course that sets Travis off, and then finally Nolan, until the three of them are laughing like maniacs, curled up together on Nolan’s awful fucking couch.

“Jesus, Trav,” Nolan says, later, when they’ve all managed to calm down. “You’re such a fucking weirdo.”

“Aww, thanks Patty, you’re really warming my heart over here,” Travis says. 

Nolan digs his pointy chin into Travis’ shoulder. “Dunno what I’d do without you,” he admits softly. 

Travis swallows.

From behind Nolan’s head, Nico catches Travis’ eye and mouths, _Thank you._

And, well. Travis doesn’t know how to even begin responding to either of them, so he doesn’t.

\---

Locker room clean out is always the worst kind of torture, and this year is no different.

Travis packs his shit, endures his exit interview, and tries very hard not to think about the fact that this might be his last time being in the same locker room with some of these guys. The offseason is long, and nobody fucking knows what management is gonna do in an attempt to try and make the team better. He says his goodbyes to the coaches, the trainers, to all the guys, and by the time he’s done, he’s ready to get out of there.

“We should do something,” Nolan says when they get back to his place. “It’s only like, one o’clock. We have time to do something.”

“Do what?” Travis asks from where he’s hanging upside down from Nolan’s couch. 

“Dunno,” Nolan says. “I just — I really don’t want to be here right now.”

“Me neither, bro,” Travis says. “But where the hell could we go?”

Nolan frowns, then deflates a little. “Yeah, I don’t —”

“Actually,” Nico pipes up from the kitchen, looking thoughtful. “I think I know somewhere.”

An hour and a half drive later, Travis and Nolan are splashing around in the waves of the Jersey Shore. 

“Nico, come join us!” Nolan yells.

Nico smiles from where he’s lying in his swim trunks on a towel in the sand and shakes his head. “I’m okay!” he yells back. 

Honestly, it’s a smart move, because even though it’s been a pretty warm May so far, it’s still nowhere near hot enough to go to the shore just yet, which is probably why the beach is empty save for a group of teens who’d clearly had the same bad idea that they did. The cold waves wash over Travis’ shoulders, but he ignores it in favor of spraying Nolan in the face with water.

“Rude!” Nolan says. He tries to splash Travis back, but Travis ducks out of the way.

The two of them fuck around by themselves for a bit, swimming around and trying to dunk each other into the water, then eventually join the group of teens, who are now playing keep away with a beach ball in the water. All told, it’s pretty fun, especially since the teens don’t seem to recognize them, and Travis finally just lets himself relax and enjoy the sun.

After a little while, Travis taps Nolan on the shoulder. “Think I’m gonna go grab a drink of water,” he says. 

“Sure thing, bud, come back quick,” Nolan says. His cheeks are pink, but Travis can’t tell if it’s because they’re always pink or because it’s sunburn. Probably sunburn. That’ll teach the fucker to put on sunscreen.

“Hey,” Nico says, looking up from the book in his lap when he sees Travis trudging up the sandy beach.

“Hey,” Travis says as he sits down next to him. “Pass me a water?”

Nico obligingly hands him a water bottle. Travis twists it open and starts chugging.

He’s almost finished with the bottle when Nico says, “You like Nolan, don’t you?”

Travis chokes on the last mouthful of water. Nico patiently pats him on the back and waits for him to regain his breath. 

“I don’t —” Travis finally gets out. 

Nico gives him an unimpressed look.

Travis slumps. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t, for sure, until now,” Nico admits.

“You sneaky Swiss bastard,” Travis says admiringly. 

Nico laughs. “Thank you? I think.”

Travis bites his lip and turns to look out at the ocean. “So then… are you mad at me?”

Nico hums. “Not really,” he says. “I mean, I understand. I like Nolan a lot too.”

Travis nods, waits for him to say something along the lines of, _Just don’t do anything about it and we’re good._

“I think you should, ah, shoot your shot,” Nico says.

Travis stares at him.

Nico stares back. 

“Did I… Did I say it wrong?” Nico asks eventually. He frowns, then mutters something under his breath. “No, I’m sure that’s right, I even asked Taylor.”

“You — you want me to shoot my shot,” Travis says. 

“Yes,” Nico says. 

“But… you’re dating him,” Travis says uncomprehendingly. 

“Well, yes,” Nico says. “But I don’t see why we couldn’t… both date him.” He shrugs. “A lot of people do three people relationships now, don’t they?”

It takes Travis a minute to fully process that.

“A three person relationship,” Travis repeats. 

“Yes,” Nico says, as if this is a perfectly normal conversation to be having with your boyfriend’s best friend. 

“This is _insane,”_ Travis says. “And I don’t — why are you even suggesting this? It’s not like you get anything out of it.”

Nico blinks. “It’s just… you know that Nolan talks about you all the time, right?”

“He does?” Travis says. 

Nico laughs. “Every phone call during the season, he tells me a story about you. ‘Nico, you won’t believe what TK did today!’ Stuff like that. Every single call.”

Travis feels like his brain is exploding a little bit. “Oh,” he says dumbly.

“Yeah,” Nico says. “I was really glad that he found a friend over here that he liked so much.”

“Okay,” Travis says. “Sure, that makes sense, but I still don’t get why —”

“You’re good for him, TK,” Nico cuts in. “I can see that, especially after spending these past few weeks with you two. You understand him in ways that… I don’t, somehow. You make him happy.”

“So do you!” Travis says, a little on the hysterical side. 

“Exactly!” Nico says. “So, why can’t we both make him happy?”

“Okay, even if — even if this _wasn’t_ crazy,” Travis says. “This is all based on the assumption that he even likes me back!”

“Oh, well,” Nico says. “I had a talk with him, too.”

“You what?” Travis asks faintly.

“He likes you, okay?” Nico says. “I promise. I told him that I would be okay if you two started dating, and he couldn’t stop blushing.”

Travis’ brain is _definitely_ exploding.

“Yo, TK!” Nolan calls from the shore. “The fuck’s taking you so long?”

“Oh, fuck,” Travis says. 

Nico gives Travis a little shove. “Go and talk to him!” he says, smiling. “He’s waiting for you.”

Travis stumbles down the beach. His mind races, and he tries to take his time walking back down to the water so he can think of what the fuck he wants to say. 

_How the fuck is this my life right now?_

“Slowpoke,” Nolan teases when Travis finally reaches him in the chest high water. ”It was getting boring without you.”

“Ha,” Travis says woodenly. 

Nolan frowns. “Are you okay?” he asks, suddenly concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“We can always take a break if you’re not feeling good,” Nolan says, still looking worried.

“No, that’s okay,” Travis says. “I just need to —”

“Buddy, it’s fine,” Nolan says. “The water’s too cold anyway, we can definitely —”

“Oh, fuck this,” Travis says, then yanks Nolan’s head down and kisses him.

Nolan doesn’t really kiss back at first, and Travis makes to pull away, so that he can run away into the woods and die of embarrassment, but the moment he tries, Nolan makes a little noise into his mouth and drags him in closer, and oh. He’s definitely kissing back now. 

Nolan’s lips are dry, and taste like sand and salt. It’s a little gross, but then Nolan slides a hand into Travis’ hair, gently tilts his head back to get a better angle and — yeah, Travis honestly couldn’t give a single shit about anything right now.

When they finally break apart to get some air, Nolan’s got this enormous grin on his stupid fucking face. Travis reaches out and touches Nolan’s cheek, uses his thumb to trace over his bottom lip because he’s allowed to do that now. 

“Stop smiling so hard, you look like an idiot,” Travis beams. 

“Look who’s fucking talking, bud,” Nolan teases.

Travis opens his mouth to say something, but then Nolan pulls him in again, leaning his head down, and Travis closes his eyes, waiting for the kiss— 

—and instead finds himself getting rudely shoved into the water. Because Nolan Patrick is a fucking _asshole._

Travis resurfaces, coughing and spluttering, trying to wipe the sea water from his eyes. “Patty!” he screeches.

“Oh shit,” Nolan laughs from Travis’ right.

Travis lunges for him, catching Nolan by surprise, and they tumble together into the water, wrestling each other like they would on land while also still attempting to stay afloat.

“You’re such a _dick!”_ Travis says, whacking Nolan in the chest. 

“It was payback for splashing me earlier!” Nolan protests. 

“I can’t believe I even _like_ you, you little —”

“Okay, I’m pretty sure I’m not the little one here.”

 _“Asshole_ —”

Travis tries to dunk Nolan’s head under the water, but he dodges out of the way, swimming just out of his reach. Travis makes another go at him, but then —

“Hey guys!”

“Nico!” Nolan says, grinning as Nico swims his way over to the both of them. “Finally joining us?”

“You might say that,” Nico smiles.

Nolan brings him in for a quick kiss. Nico tilts his head up, leaning forward into the kiss, until —

Nico pulls back at the last second and pushes Nolan into the water.

“Nico!” Nolan coughs out, betrayed, when he pokes his head back up out of the water. “What the —”

“Don’t — how does the phrase go?” Nico says. “Don’t dish if you can’t take it?”

“Oh _burn!”_ Travis says. He holds out a hand for a high-five, and Nico obliges, grinning. 

Nolan dives forward, aiming for Nico, but Nico scrambles quickly out of the way, and Nolan ends up attacking Travis instead. 

“Hey, Nico, help me out here!” Travis yells. 

“No thank you!” Nico replies.

“Traitor!” Travis says indignantly. He tries to fend for himself for a bit, but then he locks eyes with Nolan.

Nolan gestures in Nico’s direction. “You hold him still and I’ll dunk his head into the water?”

“Deal.”

“Hey, what are you —” Nico says as he sees the two of them approaching. “Two against one isn’t fair!”

“Tough shit, Nico,” Travis says.

“It’s payback time,” Nolan grins. 

“Oh no,” Nico says, but he's laughing when the two of them tackle him into the water. 

**Author's Note:**

> @ the devils... i'm so sorry for making you lose in the playoffs even if it was for fic purposes. please forgive me.
> 
> there was gonna be a coda where nolan comes back to philly earlier than he was supposed to and buys a new, much comfier couch to surprise tk with, but it wasn't working out, so :/
> 
> [my tumblr!](http://traviszajac.tumblr.com)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] runnin' outta time (to make you love me)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20157283) by [growlery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery)




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